


Passing Grades

by ZScalantian



Category: Final Fantasy X
Genre: Dream Zanarkand, Family, Gen, Relationship Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-17 02:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11842149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZScalantian/pseuds/ZScalantian
Summary: Schoolwork in Dream Zanarkand.





	Passing Grades

Long spurs of reclaimed land jutted out of the Zanarkand peninsula, chopping the cold northern ocean into artificial bays. Like the polyps of a sea creature, docks and piers sprouted from the spurs, and further docks and piers sprouted from them. Down one of these small docks came the sound of damp footsteps and a rhythmic _thomp_ ing noise. A boy came into view, mid-teens, bleach blond hair and a blue sweatshirt with a yellow fishhook logo. His heavy red-and-white shoes, rubber-soled, squelched as he walked. They should have been left on the locker room drying rack, but the boy, Tidus, liked to wear them home after wins. It felt like the victory lasted a little longer.

He dribbled a blue and white blitzball with one hand, and this produced the rhythmic noise. He’d’ve liked to whoop and holler too, still riding high on victory, but his neighbors were old and went to bed at nine or ten o’clock. If he woke anyone up shouting, he’d catch an earful about it tomorrow. So he settled for bouncing the ball and raising watery echoes from the hollow spaces below the cemeplast dock.

A shadow moved at the end of the dock, just past the circle of light cast by an adpillar. Tidus stopped, catching the ball in the crook of his arm. The shadow divided into two figures, one moaning happily. A couple, sitting necking on the low wall, silhouetted against the spectacular vista of the Zanarkand city-state. Tidus bounced the ball loudly a couple of times, testing their attention. They didn’t seem to notice him. An impish grin crept onto his face. He bounced the ball once more and let it fly high. Crouched and sprang after it, flipping his feet over his head and nailing the ball on its descent with the toe of one heavy boot. Sphere Shot. The trick kick that was halfway to netting his high school team another championship, and all but guaranteed Tidus a career in professional blitzball. As he landed, the ball whizzed two yards over the couple's heads and splashed into the bay. It sent up a sheet of water colored glittering blue by the city lights behind.

The couple broke apart, staring at the splash, then twisted around to see Tidus. “Hey!” one said aggrievedly. The other complimented, “Nice shot!” Tidus nodded, half in acknowledgement, half in apology. He covered the last yards to his houseboat in a few long strides and took the first lurching step aboard with practiced ease. He didn’t worry about retrieving the ball. It had a beacon; he’d fetch it tomorrow.

At the front door, he pulled up short. The orange security light beside the doorframe was off. It had been on this afternoon when he left. He glanced over his shoulder at the couple, but they were all wrapped up in each other again.

The houseboat had been robbed twice, years ago. Crazed fans, come looking for Jecht memorabilia. They hadn’t found anything - Tidus’d given all his old man’s stuff to the Abes, and the team placed some in its Hall of Fame trophy cases and auctioned the rest off for charity. He tapped one foot nervously against the deck, wishing he’d kept hold of the heavy blitzball. He could’ve concussed an intruder with it.

He pushed the door open and stepped through, balanced lightly, ready to move. The overhead light was on, and the air was flavored with the spicy scent of curry. A man in a red coat was sitting at the table, reading a sheet of flimsy datapaper. Tidus tried not to sag against the doorway. It was just Auron. His guardian had been gone the last two nights, and when he left, he was usually gone for a week at a time.

“You’re home,” Auron said, grizzled, sardonic, not looking up.

“Same to you,” Tidus answered, and shut the door. He flipped the security switch back on before beelining to the kitchenette. The rice cooker was steaming on the counter, and a pan of yellow chicken-and-veggie curry was bubbling slowly on the convection stove. Tidus had eaten earlier, a celebratory dinner with his teammates, but he figured he had a little room left. He pulled out a bowl and started heaping rice in. “You should turn the security back on once you get home.” He looked over to see Auron’s reaction. The man seemed impervious to the criticism, still studying the datapaper. Tidus ladled curry over the rice, reflecting that perhaps for Auron, the security system was unnecessary. The second of the two robbery attempts had been foiled after Auron, coming home early from a called Junior Blitzers game, caught the crook red-handed. When the police arrived, Auron had the burglar trapped at swordpoint against the wall.

Tidus leant against the counter and swallowed a mouthful of flavorful rice. “We beat Naxia tonight,” he commented. “Mikiy was tough to get past, but Loro got a goal and I got two.”

“Congratulations,” said Auron drily. Tidus peered at him. Auron wasn’t enthusiastic about sports (he wasn’t enthusiastic about _anything_ , as far as his ward could tell), but he wasn’t usually sarcastic about Tidus’ achievements either. The man looked up from behind his sunglasses and high collar and flipped around the datapaper, pushing it across the table so Tidus could see it more easily.

The paper displayed a series of moving graphs. There was an awful lot of red on it. Tidus groaned, setting down the rice bowl. Grade report. Thinking Auron would be gone, he’d left it sitting out. It wasn’t that he’d intended to keep it a secret, he just wanted a chance to frame the narrative first. It was probably too late now, but he tried gamely anyway. “Look, I haven’t got enough hours in for Citizenship, but I just don’t have time, Coach keeps piling on extra practice. And I’m failing Mr. Enddil’s class, but he _hates_ me. He roots for the _Duggles_.” In Tidus’ eyes, there was no greater character flaw than living in Zanarkand’s A-East sector and not cheering for the Abes.

Auron turned the paper back toward himself and scanned it. “Mr. Enddil teaches…?”

Tidus shuffled his feet, feeling the last of the spherepool water ooze between his toes. “Composition,” he muttered.

The paper rustled. Auron glanced up, his mouth twitching. “That the one you failed last term too?”

“I had Ms. Chiie that time, she mumbles! Nobody who sat in back passed!” Anxious to change the tone, he pointed at the sheet. “Look! I’m doing decent in Programs and Physics, and great in Geometry!”

“And failing Biology, I see.” Leaving his second dinner on the counter, Tidus flopped dramatically down over the couch, careful to leave his damp shoes dangling off the arm. “That one I just don’t like,” he admitted.

“Hm,” Auron grunted. Tidus put an arm over his eyes and waited, listening to the sound of the stiff paper scraping against the tabletop. “It looks to me,” Auron said eventually, “like you’re in danger of repeating the term.”

Tidus scrunched his eyes shut, feeling helpless. It was so easy to put off studying, when the water outside the houseboat seemed to call to him. Spending hours kicking the ball around, or just floating, watching the wake of boats overhead, holding his breath until his lungs were ready to explode, was so much more appealing than memorizing dry factoids in databooks. _I just want to blitz_ , he almost said, but bit it back. Auron would accept explanations and put up with excuses, but had no tolerance for whining.

The man followed the trail of his thoughts anyway. “You think the Abes will want a player who lacks the discipline to do his homework?”

“No,” Tidus groaned. He had a stack of scout letters in his room, including the all-important one from the Abes, the one he’d been working for since childhood, however much his old man put him down about it. He couldn’t sign a contract until his graduation was assured. Right now, his dream was ephemeral, liable to pop if he took the wrong action.

Auron didn’t say anything else, pulling a book from his library and settling down in the easy chair. Tidus pried himself off the sofa, feeling the post-game exhaustion beginning to sweep through him. He managed to finish his curry and rice, then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he came back out, Auron had put dinner away and turned off the overhead light. He was sitting in a little circle of light from the floor lamp, reading, looking perfectly at home in the sleek surroundings despite his weird, unfashionable coat and scarred face.

“Night,” Tidus said, and opened his bedroom door. Auron’s voice, solemn like it got occasionally, stopped him halfway.

“Tidus. This is your story. What you make of it is up to you.” Auron rarely gave advice, letting Tidus figure things out for himself. Despite that, on issues like this he asked enough leading questions to make his feelings clear, a strategy that Tidus felt was unfairly effective. In this case, Tidus felt that he deserved the guilt trip. He hesitated in the doorway, then swung around, an idea bubbling up in his head. “You any good at Biology?”

Auron’s mouth quirked upward. Behind his glasses, his eyes glinted with amusement. “Not especially. Nor can I assist with Composition. But I think you have your solution.”

Tidus cocked his head. “Huh?”

“Think on it,” Auron ordered, gaze dropping back to his book.

Some hours later, Tidus woke from a sound sleep. “Oh!” he realized, putting a hand over his face. “Get a study buddy!”


End file.
